Today (Saturday) was one of those days. You know, when your kid wakes up, and five minutes later you realize that it's going to be one of those days because she is already in the middle of a full blown tantrum? It seemed like every question turned into an argument/debate with a full complement of whining, foot stomping, tears, and angst. The fact that I was just exhausted didn't help the situation.
But at some point, I stopped and thought about what God must feel like. I certainly am not any better than a 4 1/2 and 1 1/2 year old when it comes to life sometimes. I do what I'm not supposed to, I'm whiny, ungrateful, selfish, and unkind. And yet, God sent his only begotten Son to suffer for me.
This (fairly obvious) realization gave me pause to think, and to be grateful, and to more wholly appreciate the joy of this day, when we celebrate Christ's victory over death, and rejoice in a new day, and in each new day that his sacrifice affords us; days when we can begin anew, wipe away the old, be forgiven of our past transgressions, and make his sacrifice worthwhile.
So, on this most holy of Sundays, I wanted to share one of my most favorite quotes with you:
"It means," said Aslan, "that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of Time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who has committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards."
He is risen indeed!